Last week, I was patting myself on the back for doggedly staying on track and revising. This week, I have strayed from the revision path in a fiery ball of Darth Vader’s fury.
Frailty, thy name is writer.
It’s not that I didn’t want to stay on target and keep revising. It’s just that this idea had been percolating in my head. An idea that I really liked, in fact. An idea for a light, airy bit of a YA novel that’s as much fun as writing picture book texts.
I’ve written nine chapters in four days.
This is clearly a blessing as well as a curse—and really, who am I to complain that I’m working on something that I’m really enjoying?
And to bring it all back to Star Wars (because in the end, everything always does come back to Star Wars) it’s also left me wondering if I’m like Luke Skywalker relying on the Force to guide him to the weak spot on the Death Star—or like Luke later in the Empire Strikes Back when Yoda accuses him of abandoning his Jedi training.
My husband thinks it’s the former, and that the Force (or the muse, as he calls it) is simply flowing through me, and I should go with it. It’s hard, though, to shake the feeling that I’ve eaten a whole box of Popsicles and have no room left for a real dinner. Or, to bring it back to Star Wars again, that I’ve just abandoned a higher calling to go off and save Han and Leia.
But it’s Han and Leia! How can I not go off to save them?
Am I just being tempted by the dark side?
How does one stay focused?